A Possibility of New Love
by hunterofartemis126
Summary: With Renly dead, Loras Tyrell wants only one thing: revenge. With war still raging, can the Tyrells choose the right side to fight on, and will Loras be able to move on? In the Game of Thrones, nothing is certain, and everyone must fight to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones, or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Chapter One

Standing over Renly's funeral pyre, Ser Loras Tyrell replayed the events of that cursed night over and over again in his mind. It had been months ago, the night after the great tourney at King's Landing to honour Lord Eddard Stark's appointment as Hand of the King. He'd spoken truly to Renly that night as they'd lain together, he thought bitterly, he would have been a good king, the best king. But now, that would never be, and Loras wondered bitterly if it was his fault that his love was now dead. He'd pushed him after all, he reasoned, Renly would never have declared himself king if Loras hadn't encouraged him to do so.

His brooding was cut off by a light touch on his arm, and he turned his head and met the concerned gaze of his sister. Margaery had done all she could to comfort him in the two days since Renly had died. To his shame, he had broken down and cried in her arms the night before, but as always, Margaery had not judged him, just as she hadn't resented his relationship with Renly, which had continued even after Renly's arranged marriage to Margaery several weeks earlier.

"You should light the pyre now Loras, they're waiting." She said quietly.

Loras nodded and took the blazing torch she held out to him. He stepped forward, and took one last look at Renly's face. He was still beautiful, even now, he thought, but he looked so different. Renly's face had never been so pale, and there was no smile on his lips. It was wrong. Renly was almost always smiling, but in death, he seemed almost a stranger to Loras as he looked down at him.

"May the Gods give you peace, Renly, my King." He whispered, and then he touched the torch to the kindling of the pyre, and turned away, unable to watch as the flames leaped up, and the man who had been his only love and who would always be his true king was lost to him forever.

Later, he sat in his tent, and stared unseeing into a cup of wine as the sun set outside. He had been in here since leaving the pyre, and he would let no one in, not even his sister. That would hurt Margaery, he knew, but he needed to be alone, and to remember.

He had gotten to know Renly a few years ago, when he'd been his squire. The feelings between them had grown fast, no matter how much Loras had tried to fight them, and soon enough there was no doubt that Renly had his heart. They couldn't be open of course, but still, all the whispers and stares of the lords and ladies of the royal court, who seemed to know everything about everyone, had been worth it, he wouldn't have given up being with Renly for the world.

He sighed then, this was doing him no good, and he knew it. He needed to do something, to throw himself into battle perhaps to take away his anger and grief. He knew exactly who'd murdered his king, and as much as he bitterly blamed himself, he knew deep down that it wasn't truly him who'd sealed Renly's fate. Renly's own brother Stannis had done that, and if Loras had his way, the false king would die, and soon if the gods were good.

Loras lifted his cup, and took a long swallow of wine. He had to stop brooding and rest, he told himself, he'd be leading his army further south at dawn, it was essential that they reached Highgarden, the Tyrell seat, as soon as possible, Stannis could send his forces after them, and as much as Loras would've welcomed meeting him on the battlefield, his sister was with him, and he'd never put her life at risk, not even to get revenge.

Loras sighed and lay himself down after he finished his wine, but he could not rest. Thoughts of Renly swirled through his head, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw his face, smiling at him like he had so many times over the years they'd been together.

Hours later, he heard the rustle of his tent being opened, and he sat up at once, reaching out for his sword in the darkness.

"Who's there?" He called, annoyed at the intrusion.

"I'm sorry to intrude my lord, your sister Lady Margaery sent me. May I come in?"

Loras sighed, no doubt Margaery was worried, and he'd done nothing to calm her fears.

"Come in." He sighed, and lit a candle from the still warm coals in the brazier. In the light from the candle, he saw an unfamiliar knight entering his tent. The knight was around his own age, possibly a year younger, around seventeen perhaps, and he wore a golden doublet, with the three green leaves of House Oakheart emblazoned on the front. He was handsome, Loras noted dully, he had pale golden hair, and deep blue eyes, which were regarding him curiously.

"Who are you?" Loras asked him, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Ser Olyvar, of house Oakheart, if it please you, my lord."

"So, you're the heir to Old Oak?" He asked him. The Oakhearts were bannermen to the Tyrells, in fact they were among their most loyal lords, and yet Loras had never met this particular member of their House.

"No, my lord," Ser Olyvar answered, "My brother Ser Willam is the heir."

"I see. Tell me, why did my sister send you to me at this hour?" Loras asked, frowning slightly.

"She asked me to bring you this, my lord, it's from the Maester. She thought you might have trouble sleeping, and she said this would help."

He held out a small flask to him then, and Loras took it, a small rueful smile crossing his face. His sister knew him so well, he'd thank her later he told himself.

"Thank you," He said. "You may go now, Ser Olyvar."

"Yes my lord," The knight said, and then he hesitated, and glanced at him, as though he meant to say something else.

"Is there a problem, Ser Olyvar?" Loras asked him, frowning slightly.

"No, I...no, my lord, I'll leave you now. Good night." He left the tent, after inclining his head politely to him.

Loras sighed again, and blew out the candle, the light would only hinder his sleep. He considered Ser Olyvar's strange behaviour, and then dismissed it. It really was time for him to get some rest, and pondering the actions of a stranger wouldn't help. He uncorked the flask that Margaery had sent and drank the contents, hoping against hope that it would bring him dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: Thank you to anyone who read the first chapter of this story, and a special thanks to skyjadeprincess for favouriting it. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and any feedback you have would be very welcome, so please feel free to leave a review.

Chapter Two

Ser Olyvar Oakheart had been watching Ser Loras from a distance since the Tyrell army had left Storm's End hours after King Renly's death. He'd heard the many rumours about Renly and Loras of course, and after seeing Loras up close the night before, Olyvar was starting to think that the rumours might really be true.

It was the day after Renly's funeral and they were riding hard. They had been since dawn, when Loras had had the camp roused and had begun to lead the way south, towards Highgarden. Olyvar had been riding a fair distance behind him, and he'd noticed that he'd been riding alone all morning. After a lot of thought, he finally spurred his horse forward, and soon, he was riding at Loras's side.

Loras Tyrell was widely considered to be one of the most attractive young men in the Seven Kingdoms, and as Olyvar looked at him, he decided that he agreed with the general opinion. Loras was slim and strong, and his hair was a mop of lazy light brown curls, which matched his honey-coloured eyes.

As he looked at him, Loras glanced over, and inclined his head politely to him in greeting. Despite his courteous smile, his eyes were clouded with grief, Olyvar saw, and he could understand, he knew exactly what it was like to lose someone you loved. He felt sad for Loras, and he wanted to help, if he could. After all, Loras was the son of his liege lord, it was his duty to help him, wasn't it?

"Ser Olyvar," Loras said, "Is there something I can help you with?"

He was courteous enough, Olyvar supposed, but there was definitely a hint of weariness in his voice.

"No, my lord," He answered, "I simply thought you might like some company, you have been riding alone since dawn."

Loras frowned at his words. "Did it occur to you that I might simply want to be left alone?" He asked sharply.

Olyvar felt a slight flush creep into his face. "I meant no offence, my lord. I only meant to help."

Loras continued to frown for a few moments, then his face cleared and he sighed, and looked at him apologetically. "No, I'm sorry, Ser Olyvar, I should not have spoken so harshly. Please, ride with me, perhaps the company will do me good." He gave him a smile then, but Olyvar couldn't help noticing that it didn't reach his eyes.

He nodded anyway though, and they rode along in silence for a while.

"Where is your sister, my lord?" Olyvar asked after a while, simply to make conversation.

"Further back with her guards, and her handmaidens." Loras told him. "She would've ridden with me, but I asked her to give me some space."

Olyvar hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "My lord, were you very close to King Renly?"

Loras's whole body went tense at once, and his eyes narrowed, his expression turning wary. "What do you mean?" He asked sharply.

"Nothing, my lord, it is only...well, you seem so saddened by his death."

"Of course I am," He said, his body still very tense, "He was my king, and my sister's husband."

Olyvar nodded at his words, but he knew there was more to it, it was written all over Loras's face. Loras turned away from him abruptly then, and dug his spurs into his horse, and rode on ahead, making it very clear that he would say no more.

Later, once Loras had called a halt for the day and the camp was set up, Olyvar, who was tired after the long day's riding, went in search of a cup of wine. To his surprise as he passed through the camp, he saw Lady Margaery and a few of her handmaidens sitting outside her large silk pavilion.

"My Lady," He said, and he bowed to her.

"Ser Olyvar," Margaery smiled warmly, and gestured for him to join them. "Come, Ser, I would have a word with you."

"As you wish, my Lady," He said, and he went and sat down beside her. "What do you wish to speak about?"

"My brother," Margaery said, and she frowned, before telling her handmaidens to leave them. Once they were gone, Margaery looked back at him.

"Tell me true, how does he fare?" She asked quietly. "You rode with him earlier, did you not?"

"I did, my Lady. He seemed...that is to say, Ser Loras seems most grievously affected by King Renly's death."

Margaery sighed, her eyes full of genuine concern. "I thought as much, Renly and Loras were very dear friends, Ser Olyvar. My brother has taken his death very hard, harder than I have, but he will not let anyone in, he hates to show weakness."

"But grieving is not a weakness, my Lady, and in times of grief, we need those we care for around us, surely. I ought to know that, my mother died when I was young."

"I am sorry to hear that," She said, "And you are right, but Loras has a different way of dealing with things. He will throw himself into the next battle he finds, that is the way he will cope, it has always been his way."

She looked worried, Olyvar saw, she was trying to hide it, but the worry was there in her eyes, the same eyes that Loras had, he noticed, not that the colour of Loras Tyrell's eyes was of much import, of course, he told himself.

"Ser Olyvar, I would ask a favour of you." Margaery said at last, snapping Olyvar from his thoughts.

"Of course, my Lady, what would you ask of me?"

"Help my brother," She said quietly, "Befriend him, stay by his side...try to stop him from doing anything reckless. Loras is the closest person to me in this world, I would not have him harmed, not if there was anything I could do about it."

Olyvar did not know quite what to say. Margaery was looking at him expectantly though, so he swallowed and answered her slowly. "What if Ser Loras does not want my company, my Lady?" He asked, thinking of the conversation he'd had with Loras earlier.

"He will," She said, "I know my brother, he will need company, once the worst of his grief has passed, but he may not reach out to me, he will not want me to worry. If the gods are good though, he will reach out to you, instead. So, will you help him, Ser?"

Again, Olyvar hesitated, thinking it through. He felt empathy for Margaery, it was clear that she loved her brother very much and that she worried for him, and besides, he'd felt oddly drawn to Loras after the first time they had met, and he had felt it again that morning, despite the fact that Loras had ridden away from him. The memory made his decision for him, and he nodded slowly, determined that he'd do all he could to help him.

"I will," He said at last, "I will help him."

"Good," Lady Margaery replied, giving him a small smile. "Don't let me down Ser Olyvar."

Olyvar gave her a small smile in return. "I won't my Lady, I swear to you." He promised, and then he stood, and, after bowing to Margaery, he went off to seek out Ser Loras.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Chapter Three

Loras was in his tent when the flap was pulled back, and Ser Olyvar poked his head cautiously inside. Loras sighed, it seemed that the boy was everywhere lately, and Loras did not know how to feel about it. He'd ridden away from Ser Olyvar that morning he remembered, and the thought of that brought a flush of shame to his face. He'd acted discourteously earlier, and he didn't quite understand why Ser Olyvar was here now, after his behaviour.

"Ser Olyvar, why are you here?" Ser Loras asked him, a little warily.

"No reason of great import, my lord. I can leave if now is a bad time."

Ser Olyvar was wary of him too, he realised, and again he felt a bit ashamed. A knight should show more courtesy than he had that morning, especially towards a member of the most loyal house over which his own house ruled.

"Not at all," He said after a moment, doing his best to smile, "Come in, Ser, and be welcome. Would you like a cup of wine?"

Olyvar came inside, pulling the flap of the tent closed behind him, and took a seat across from Loras. "I would, thank you my lord," He said, and Loras stood, and, taking up a flagon of wine, he filled two cups and handed one of them to Olyvar.

Olyvar took the cup with a smile of thanks, and they both drank deeply.

"I am sorry for riding away like that this morning," Loras said after a while. "It was most discourteous of me."

"There's nothing to be sorry for my lord, you are grieving, and I intruded when it was clear you did not want company."

"You were only trying to help, I know, and I should have thanked you for that. I had no excuse to act as I did."

"No thanks is needed, my lord," Olyvar said at once, and Loras gave him a tiny flicker of a smile.

They lapsed into silence for a long while after that, but it was not uncomfortable. Loras refilled both their cups three times, and the strong Dornish red began to cloud his thoughts a little as he drank more of it.

"Tell me, Ser Olyvar, how is it that I did not meet you until recently?" He asked finally, he had been curious about this for a while.

"I was fostered by the Royces of the Vale of Arryn," Olyvar explained, "Truth be told, I've spent very little time in the Reach since I was very young, not until your father called the banners when he pledged his support for King Renly."

"I see," Loras said, "So, why did your family send you to the Royces? They are so far away. Are you betrothed to one of their kin?" For some reason, he found himself silently hoping that the answer was no.

"No, my lord," Olyvar said, "My grandmother is distant kin to Lord Royce is all."

"Oh, I see," Loras said, and he smiled a little before taking a long drink from his cup.

"What about you, my lord?" Olyvar asked after a moment. "Have you been betrothed to anyone yet?"

Loras actually chuckled slightly at that. "No, Ser Olyvar, not yet, hopefully not ever."

"Not ever, my lord?" He asked, sounding politely curious.

Loras drank the remainder of his wine and then poured himself another cup. "No, not ever," He said again firmly, "I have no wish to marry. besides, I'm my father's third son, it isn't as though I am obliged to sire an heir, is it?"

Olyvar was watching him almost knowingly, he realised, and he met his gaze. He had beautiful eyes, he thought, they drew him in, even now when his head was so clouded by grief for Renly.

"Do you want to marry, Ser Olyvar?" He asked him after a moment of silence.

"I...I don't know, I don't really think I do, my lord. Marriage has never really been something I've dreamed of."

"Then, we understand each other, I suppose."

"Yes my lord, I suppose we do."

After that, they spent a few more hours, drinking and talking of nothing of much import. Loras did not forget his grief, but for a while at least he could distract himself.

Finally, he saw Ser Olyvar's eyes fluttering closed, and in a moment, he was sure that he was asleep. Loras considered waking him and sending him back to his tent, but watching him, he found he could not bring himself to do it. He walked over to him, and covered him with the cloak that he'd taken off when he'd entered the tent.

Once Olyvar was covered, Loras went to bed, and fell asleep, with the flicker of a smile on his lips.

The next morning when Loras woke, he immediately regretted opening his eyes. His head pounded, and he cursed himself silently for drinking so much wine the night before.

"Loras?" He heard Margaery's voice, and he looked around and saw her coming into his tent.

"What is it?" Loras groaned, he wanted to go back to sleep.

"Dawn broke three hours ago. Shouldn't we be leaving?"

Loras cursed again but he got up slowly, knowing that Margaery was right, he'd been stupid, they shd've been riding for hours by now. He glanced around the tent for fresh clothes, and did a double take when he saw Ser Olyvar, sleeping under his cloak in the corner of the tent, quite forgetting that he himself had covered him with it the night before. Following his gaze, Margaery saw Olyvar too, and raised an eyebrow.

"Busy night?" She asked her brother.

"Dornish wine has a lot to answer for, I think," He muttered, "Now, go, I must get ready, and then we'll be leaving as soon as possible."

Margaery left, and Loras changed his clothes before stepping over, and lightly shaking Ser Olyvar awake. Olyvar's eyes opened at once, and he looked up at Loras in slight surprise.

"My lord? I...I am so sorry, I must have fallen asleep last night."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Loras said, and he held out a hand to help Olyvar up. "Come, you must get ready, we will be riding out soon."

"Yes of course, my lord," Olyvar said, and he took his hand, letting Loras pull him to his feet. When he was standing, he let Loras go, and turned to leave the tent.

"Ser Olyvar?" Loras called before he could leave.

"Yes, my lord?" Olyvar asked, turning to look at him.

"Would you ride with me today? I would welcome your company."

Olyvar gave him a small smile, and nodded. "Yes, my lord, I'd be most honoured to ride with you." He said, and Loras smiled too as Olyvar left, hurrying to ready for the journey ahead.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Chapter 4

During the next week or so, Margaery watched her brother closely. He and Ser Olyvar had been in each other's company nearly every time she had seen them. Her brother had looked so sad since Renly's death, but now at least, he smiled from time to time. Margaery thanked the gods every time she saw that, she didn't want her brother to suffer, she'd never wanted that, and she knew she never would.

In truth, Margaery knew that she had quite a lot to thank the gods for. She and her brother were alive and well, and they weren't prisoners of Stannis Baratheon, which they could've been if lord Baelish had not convinced Loras that they needed to go. She also thanked the gods for Ser Olyvar Oakheart, who seemed to be helping by distracting Loras quite a lot.

Nine days after the morning she'd found Olyvar asleep in Loras's tent, Highgarden finally came into view. Margaery smiled with relief, she was very glad to see the tall, lofty towers of her home again, and looking ahead at Loras, she could see that he was as well.

She rode forward then until she was riding at Loras's left, and smiled at him. He returned her smile, his eyes full of relief.

When they reached the gates, the guards opened them at once, and Loras and Margaery, along with Olyvar and the other lords and knights who'd travelled with them, rode through into the courtyard. Inside, Lord Mace Tyrell was waiting, and when Margaery got down from her horse, he rushed to embrace her.

"Father," She said, returning his embrace. "How have things been since we left?"

"Let us save all that for now, you must be weary after your journey. Let's get you inside so that you may freshen up. We will have a feast tonight."

Loras got down from his horse to join his sister, and frowned a little at his father's words. "A feast? Father, what is there to celebrate exactly?"

"Why, your safe return of course. Now, let us go inside."

Loras scowled, but then Olyvar got down from his horse, and moved to his side. Margaery saw the two exchange a look and after a moment, Loras seemed to compose himself, and strode away into the castle, with Olyvar following. Margaery and her father followed, and Margaery once again thanked the gods for Olyvar's presence at her brother's side.

Later that night as he arrived for the feast, Olyvar stood in the doorway for a moment, and looked around for Loras. He saw him at the top table with his family, and he gave him a small smile before heading to his own place in the hall. He'd understood Loras's anger earlier, he'd just lost Renly, and yet, he was still expected to smile and look happy to be attending a feast that he in no way wanted to be at. He'd done what he could to calm him earlier, but even from here, it was clear that Loras looked tense and upset, despite his efforts to smile.

He continued to watch him for a while, but not long after Lord Tyrell made a toast welcoming his children home, he saw him leaving the hall. Without thinking, Olyvar rose too, and followed him out.

Loras must have heard him, because he turned around, and Olyvar couldn't help wincing slightly in empathy, seeing the grief and anger in his eyes.

"Oh... it's you," He said, "I thought you might be my sister."

"I saw you leave, I came to see if there was anything I could do to help."

"There isn't," He said, "I appreciate that you came, but you should go back to the feast. Enjoy yourself."

"Where will you go?" He asked, making no move to return to the hall.

"To my chambers. I'm not in the mood for celebrating."

"Then, let me at least keep you company, my lord."

Loras hesitated for a few long moments, but then he sighed, and nodded. "All right, you can come with me." He said finally, and then he lead Olyvar towards his chambers.

When they got there, Loras took a seat by the fire, and reached for a flagon of wine on a side table.

"Wine?" He asked Olyvar.

"No, thank you my lord." He said, and Loras shrugged, pouring a cup for himself.

"My father meant well," He said after a long silence. "I know that, but still, celebrating is the last thing I want to do at the moment."

"I am sorry, my lord," He said, "King Renly was a kind and good man, he didn't deserve to die like that."

"Stannis will pay for what he did," Loras promised, emptying his cup and refilling it again. "May all the gods bear witness to my words, I'll kill him myself for killing my king. Renly would've been the best king, Ser Olyvar, but Stannis couldn't let that happen. He is nothing but a kinslayer"

"We will face him in battle soon, my lord, if the gods are good. Justice will be served, I am sure."

Olyvar was certain now, Loras had loved Renly, he still did, he thought. He felt a little sad then. Renly had been a good man, but even though he'd only known Loras for a short time, it pained him to see him so upset.

"If the gods are good, yes, because they have been so good to us in the past." Loras sighed bitterly, and looked at Olyvar. "Why are you here? Why are you being kind to me? I haven't exactly been very courteous to you. So, why?"

Olyvar bit his lip. He had promised Margaery that he'd help Loras, but now, he realised that he had grown to care for him.

"I...my lord, I help you because I want to help you." He said, and Loras shook his head at him slowly. Then he rose, and moved to stand directly in front of Olyvar, and looked straight into his eyes.

"You want to help me? But, why? You must have a reason, tell me the truth."

"I want to help, I care about what happens to you." He said at last, not breaking his gaze.

Loras nodded slightly, and stepped back, his gaze still on him.

"I do not deserve to be cared about, not by you, I've given you no reason to care about me."

For a moment, Olyvar didn't quite know how to respond to that. Then, a blurry memory came back to him, one that he hadn't known that he remembered until now.

"You covered me," He blurted, still looking at Loras. Loras blinked, looking slightly confused.

"I covered you?" He asked.

"With the cloak. The night I came to your tent. I was almost asleep, and I didn't remember that until now."

"Oh," Loras nodded slowly, and smiled faintly at the half-forgotten memory. "So I did."

"Why?" Olyvar asked. "Why did you do it? You could've sent me back to my tent, why didn't you?"

"I couldn't. You looked...peaceful, and I didn't want to disturb you."

"Well then, you showed care for me too, my lord. That is reason enough for me to want to help you."

Loras smiled then, a small smile, but a genuine one.

"Then, I suppose I cannot protest," He said, "But if you want to help, at least take a cup of wine. I hear that drinking alone is a bad habit. Oh, and from now on, it's Loras, not my lord."

Olyvar smiled too, and nodded, accepting a cup, and feeling very much as though he and Loras were making progress.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Chapter Five

The morning after returning to Highgarden, Loras went down to the dining hall to break his fast with his family. He felt a little better this morning than he had yesterday, the time he'd spent with Olyvar the night before had helped his mood quite a lot. They had talked for a long while, and Loras had to admit that even though he had initially wanted to be alone, he was glad that he'd accepted Olyvar's company. Olyvar really did seem to care about what happened to him, and he found himself returning the sentiment in kind. Loras also found himself trusting Olyvar, despite the short time they'd known each other.

When he reached the dining hall, he saw that his family had already gathered. He walked to the table, and took a seat between Margaery and his brother Garlan, who gave him a small smile as he sat down.

"Brother, I didn't see much of you at the feast last night," Garlan commented, drizzling honey on a slice of bread as he spoke.

"I retired to bed early," Loras said shortly, not quite meeting his brother's gaze, "I was tired after the long day's riding."

Garlan nodded and said no more on the subject, and for that, Loras was grateful. Garlan had always been the brother that Loras was closest too, he always seemed to know when Loras didn't want to talk about things, and he never pressed him about them.

"So," Loras said after a few minutes of silence, "Has anything happened since we've been gone?"

"Nothing of much import," His other brother Willas, the eldest Tyrell sibling, replied speaking for the first time. "The Starks are still a thorn in Tywin Lannister's side, and Joffrey is still on the Iron Throne."

"And Stannis? Is there news of him?" Loras asked, a note of tension in his voice at the very thought of the false king.

"Not yet, but it's safe to assume he'll attack King's Landing now that he has the forces to do it." Willas said, and Loras frowned slightly. In his opinion, the thought of Stannis Baratheon on the throne seemed about as bad as having Joffrey for a king.

"Let us leave this grim talk for war councils," His mother said, finally speaking up. "This is breakfast, we should discuss more pleasant matters."

The table went silent after that, it was clear that no one could find anything very pleasant to talk about, which was not surprising Loras thought, these were dark times after all.

Just as the silence was beginning to get unbearable, a messenger entered the hall and bowed to Lord Tyrell. "My lord, there is a visitor here from King's Landing who requests audience with you."

Mace Tyrell looked up from his food for the first time that morning, and frowned slightly. "Who is it?" He asked, sounding mildly irritated.

"It's Petyr Baelish, my lord. Shall I send him in?"

Lord Tyrell's frown deepened, even he knew better than to trust Baelish, Loras thought, and he had no idea why he'd be here.

"Send him to my solar. He can wait there until I am ready to see him."

"Yes, my lord," The messenger said, and he hurried off to carry out lord Tyrell's orders.

"What could Petyr Baelish want with us, father?" Willas asked, a frown creasing his brow.

"I don't know," His father admitted, and then he turned to Loras and Margaery. "Baelish came to Renly's camp shortly before Renly's death, didn't he? Do either of you have any idea what he could want?"

"Baelish is the Master of Coin on Joffrey's Small Council," Loras said, "It's likely he's here to bring us to Joffrey's side. Now that most of Renly's former supporters have joined Stannis, the Lannisters will need allies."

Margaery nodded in agreement, and their father frowned once more, clearly troubled.

"Well, I will hear him out," He said, "Loras, Willas, and Garlan, you will attend me. Now come, let us see what the mockingbird has to say."

Lord Petyr Baelish looked exactly as Loras remembered him from his time in King's Landing. He was a small man, with grey-green eyes and a sly, mocking smile, that was never far from his face.

"My lords," He said, smiling as the Tyrells entered the room. "Come, take a seat, we have much to discuss I think."

Loras couldn't help gritting his teeth. He hated and mistrusted Baelish, just as Renly had, and he especially hated the way he acted so superior in a home that wasn't his own.

"What brings you here, Lord Baelish?" His father asked, carefully polite. "We had not expected to see you here."

"Oh, you know how war is, my lord. Plans change, and people die, anything can happen. I had not expected to be here myself, but here we are." He gave the Tyrells a mocking smile, and Loras had to fight hard not to show his distaste for the man in front of him.

"You still haven't answered my question, Lord Baelish," Lord Tyrell grumbled, "Why are you here?"

"Why, to talk of course. To offer you an alliance, one that I'm sure you won't refuse."

"What makes you think we'll ally with you and the Lannisters?" Loras asked, before he could stop himself. Baelish turned to him, and smiled another of his mocking smiles.

"Why, indeed. Well, for one thing, it's clear you won't join Lord Stannis, if you were going to do so, you would have already."

"Perhaps we mean to take no further part in this war," Lord Tyrell said. "I chose to support Renly, and because of that, my family was put in danger after his death. What makes you think I'd risk lending my support again?"

"For one thing, the Lannisters are prepared to offer some...motivation if you support them. Besides, surely you want vengeance for your late king's death. This alliance will give you that."

Loras couldn't help tensing at Baelish's words, he knew by the smile on the man's face that his last statements were aimed directly at him.

"Say we did decide to ally with Joffrey and the Lannisters," His father said after a long silence, "What is this "motivation" that they would be offering us?"

Baelish gave him a wide, triumphant smile. "Why, your greatest wish, lord Tyrell. The Lannisters are prepared to make your sweet Margaery Joffrey's queen."

The Tyrells stared at Baelish for several long minutes. Loras was suspicious, but as he looked at his father, he could see the wheels turning in his head. He knew that his father desperately wanted Margaery to be queen, and he knew that he'd do a great many things to make that happen.

"Joffrey is promised to another, is he not? What of Sansa Stark?" Willas asked, breaking the silence. Baelish looked at the heir to Highgarden, and shrugged.

"Plans can be undone. I assure you, my lords, if you help King Joffrey defeat the pretender Stannis Baratheon, Margaery will be queen. Lord Tywin Lannister himself promises you that."

There was another long silence before finally, his father spoke. "We shall discuss this offer, then, and I will give you an answer when a decision has been made."

"As you wish," Baelish said, "But I would urge you to hurry my lord, lord Tywin is not a patient man, and Stannis is already preparing his attack on the capitol." With those words, Baelish rose and left the room, leaving the Tyrells to come to a decision which would decide the course of the battles to come.

The Tyrells didn't take long to reach a decision. Willas, ever the cleverest of them, had pointed out that should Stannis win, their family would no doubt be punished, along with all those who had not fought for him. Loras was eager to face Stannis's force, and exact vengeance for Renly on him if he could. Most of all though, lord Tyrell wanted Margaery to be queen, so they decided that when the time came, the rose would crush the stag, and help the lions to win the war to come.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, or favourited this story. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it in a review. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter Six

When the meeting with his father and brothers was finally over, Loras's heart was filled with a steely determination that he hadn't known he had before now. He knew that allying with the Lannisters was a risk, but he was certain that it had to be better than following a kinslayer like Stannis.

Loras found his thoughts turning to Renly then as he walked through the castle's halls, and the thought of him only fuelled the feelings within him. He felt eager to face Stannis in battle now, more eager than he'd felt before, even right after Renly's death, when he'd been half mad with grief and rage. And yet, despite these feelings, he felt oddly vulnerable too, as though his strong emotions had shattered the mental armour he used often to hide his true emotions from those whom he did not trust completely.

Feeling the need for fresh air, Loras exited the castle and headed for the steps that would take him up to the battlements, where he assumed he'd be alone.

Olyvar looked out at the sprawl of Highgarden from the battlements, and thought of Loras, and of the time they'd spent talking together the night before. He hadn't seen him all day, and rumour had it that he and his family were meeting with lord Petyr Baelish, who'd come to them from King's Landing. From what he had heard of the man, Olyvar was fairly sure that Baelish had come to secure the Tyrells' support for Joffrey and the Lannisters, who he served as Master of Coin on the king's Small Council. He wondered curiously if the Tyrells would agree to an alliance, after all, they wouldn't join Stannis, and what other option was there?

As he stood there thinking, he didn't hear Loras approaching until he was right beside him.

"Am I disturbing you?" Loras asked, and Olyvar turned to meet his gaze.

"No, I was just thinking, that's all." He answered, and Loras nodded in understanding.

"This is a good place to think," He said, "And a good place to be on your own for a while if you don't want company."

"Oh. Do you want me to go?" He asked, moving to head for the steps down from the battlements.

"No," Loras said, and Olyvar stopped, and remained where he was. "You don't have to go." Loras continued. "I'm sorry, I was speaking of times past, when I needed time alone with my thoughts. I'm sure you can imagine that there are few places here where you can have time to yourself."

"It does seem that way," He admitted, "Did you come here a lot to be alone?"

"Not a lot," He said, "Only...well, only when I wanted to avoid being around others for a bit. People, especially noble people I have found, love to whisper rumours about anyone they can and after a while, things like that are hard to ignore, no matter how hard you try, or how little their words mean."

Olyvar had to admit, he was surprised. This was the sincerest side he'd ever seen to Loras, it was like Loras had let his guard slip around him, and Olyvar wondered how long it would last before the courteous mask was back.

"I am sorry," He said after a moment, "You are right, people can be cruel and judgemental, even if there is no true cause for it."

"Well, in their minds I suppose there was," He said quietly, looking out into the distance. "People judge what they see as being different to how they are, Olyvar, that is how life works, I have learned."

"I...I do not know what you mean." He said, although he did, and he felt shocked that Loras was finally being so open with him.

"Oh, but I think you do," Loras said, and he turned to him, meeting his gaze with an expression somewhere between vulnerability and determination. He looked, Olyvar thought, as though he'd come to a decision and would follow through on it, despite the possible consequences his actions could bring. "And it's true," He added after a long moment of silence, his voice little more than a whisper. "I did love Renly, I was with him for years. And now, I will avenge him. The Lannisters may not be a good option, but Stannis is far worse. He is nothing but a kinslayer, and for that, for what he did to Renly, I will kill him, make no mistake about it. He will die, and my hand will be the one that finishes him." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Olyvar in a state of shock at what had just happened.

Margaery waited for a long time before someone finally came to tell her what was going on, and when the knock came at last, she saw that it was Willas outside her door, leaning heavily on his cane. This surprised Margaery, she'd expected Loras or her father, but still, Willas was a welcome sight. She had always loved and respected her eldest brother, and although she was closer to Loras, she shared quite a lot of Willas's intelligence and his nature.

"Willas," Margaery smiled, stepping back to let him into the room. "What news? What did Baelish come here for?"

"An alliance, as Loras suspected. The Lannisters are offering terms." He seemed a little troubled, Margaery thought, he hid it well, but Margaery knew him well enough to see through any falseness in his expression.

"What were their terms?" She asked, seating herself and pouring two cups of wine for them.

Willas hesitated for a moment, and took a sip of wine before he answered her. "They have offered to wed you to Joffrey if father supports them." He said at last.

"So, I am to be queen then? If that is the case, why do you look so troubled, Willas?" Margaery asked him. She herself felt a mix of different emotions at this turn of events. She'd always wanted to be the queen, so in that regard, she was pleased, but still, from what she'd heard about Joffrey, he wouldn't be the easiest of husbands to have to live with.

"Joffrey is said to be... cruel," Willas said, "I do not wish for you to be ill-treated."

Margaery smiled for him, her face a careful mask of reassurance and confidence. "Willas, I will be just fine. Besides, if all goes well and the war is won, Joffrey will be very grateful to us, he will not harm me. Do not worry for me."

"Perhaps you are right," Willas said, and he took another sip of wine. "But do be careful when you go to King's Landing, won't you?"

"Of course," She said, and she smiled once more. "Willas, truly, you don't need to worry for me."

Willas nodded, and gave his younger sister a small smile. He'd always been sweet and caring, Margaery thought fondly. People disregarded him often, because of his injured leg and the fact that he could not fight in battles, but Margaery knew that her brother shouldn't be so easily underestimated. He had a sharp intelligence as well as being caring, and he was already a fine strategist. In fact, she thought, it was as her grandmother often said, all Tyrells might be golden roses, but every rose has its thorns.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: As always, thank you to anyone who read or followed this story. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please review and tell me what you thought.

Chapter Seven

Loras paced restlessly back and forth across his chamber, wondering what he should do. He'd told him. He'd actually told him the truth of his feelings for Renly. But why? Why had he done it? He was usually so careful with his words, but looking into Olyvar's eyes...well, he'd had no choice. He couldn't lie to him, not anymore, and he had to admit, the realisation of that scared him a little.

As he turned to continue pacing, he heard a light knock at the door of his chambers, and he tensed at once. Was it him? What was he to say? He shook his head, and slowly walked to the door, hesitating before slowly opening it, then sighing with relief when he saw who it was.

"Loras? Is everything all right?" Margaery asked him, looking at him with faint concern.

"I...I don't know," He admitted, and he stepped aside, letting his sister into the room.

When she was inside, he closed the door behind her and began to pace again while Margaery watched, a small frown of concern on her face.

"Loras, what's wrong?" She asked him softly. "What's happened?"

"I told him," Loras said, pausing his pacing once more to look at his sister. "I told him...I can't believe I did it."

Margaery's frown deepened, and she stared at her brother worriedly. "Loras, you told who what? Come and sit down, explain it to me."

Loras sighed and did as she said, going to sit down on the edge of his bed. "I told Olyvar...I told him I loved Renly." He admitted at last, not meeting his sister's gaze.

"What? Loras, why would you do that?" Margaery asked, sounding a little shocked.

"I don't know...I just, when I looked at him, when I looked into his face, I found that I couldn't lie to him. It was foolish, I know, but I could not help it."

"Oh Loras," Margaery sighed, "That was not a wise thing to do, but don't worry too much...perhaps we can talk to him, it's likely he won't tell people about what you said anyway. He cares for you, any fool can see it, he likely knew already, even before you told him."

"Margaery, you don't understand," Loras sighed, getting up to pace again. "I've never let my guard slip like that, not with anyone except..."

He trailed off, and stared unseeingly out of the window. Renly, he thought, he'd never let his guard down the way he had today, except with Renly. What did that mean? Could it be that he was beginning to fall for Olyvar Oakheart? It was true that he found him attractive, and that he'd grown to care for him but still, surely it couldn't be, not yet. Could it?

"Loras?" Margaery asked, and Loras looked back at her, a frown creasing his brow.

"I...I think I might need a cup of wine," He said slowly, and Margaery sighed deeply, and stood to face her brother.

"Loras, do you like him? Is that what this is about?" Margaery asked quietly, looking at her brother.

"I don't know...I think so. But it's too soon...I just lost Renly, how could I move on so quickly? What...what would he think of me, Margaery?"

"Renly would never want you to be unhappy," She told him gently. "He loved you, just as you loved him. If your roles were reversed, wouldn't you want him to be happy?"

"Yes, of course I would," Loras said at once. "I would have done anything for Renly, I loved him. I couldn't bear to see him upset, especially not over me."

"Well then, don't you think he'd feel the same? You're still young, Loras, you're only eighteen. You should be allowed to love someone, and you shouldn't feel guilty about it."

Loras sighed, and then he gave his sister the smallest of smiles. He was very grateful for Margaery's presence in that moment, and deep down, he knew that she was right.

"You should go to him," Margaery urged, "You could be leaving for battle any day now, wouldn't it be best if you two talk about things now?"

Loras hesitated a moment, and then he nodded. "I'll go and find him," He decided, "I owe him that much anyway, I walked away after I told him about Renly...I just couldn't believe what I'd done."

"Then go," Margaery said, and she gave her brother an encouraging smile before leading the way to the door and then out into the hallway.

Olyvar hadn't quite known what to do after Loras had walked away from him earlier that day. Part of him had wanted to go after him, but another part of him needed to think, so he had returned to his chambers where he'd been since then.

He'd suspected all along that Loras had loved Renly, but hearing it, having it confirmed by Loras himself, was different. He was still shocked that Loras had actually told him, and he couldn't help but wonder why he'd done it. Part of him was quietly pleased, to him it seemed that he'd finally gained Loras's trust, and that meant a great deal to him.

As he sat there thinking, he heard quiet footsteps in the hall, which paused outside his door. He rose, expecting a knock, but none came, all seemed quiet outside.

After listening for another minute, Olyvar grew curious and decided to look outside and check to see if anyone was out there. He walked to the door and opened it, and then took a step back when he saw Loras, standing silently outside the door, an expression of hesitation on his handsome face.

"Loras? Um...did you want to come in?" He asked, unsure how things stood between them after what had happened earlier that day.

"I...yes, please, I think there are things we should talk about."

"All right," Olyvar said, and he let Loras in, and closed the door firmly behind him.

"Can I get you a cup of wine?" He offered after a small silence.

"Yes, that would be welcome, thank you." Loras replied, and Olyvar set about pouring two cups of wine for them.

"So," He said once he and Loras both had their cups. "What did you want to talk about?"

Loras shifted uncomfortably, and would not meet his eyes, indeed focusing on the cup in his hands. "I...I just wanted to talk about our conversation earlier."

"Oh." Olyvar looked down too, not knowing what to say.

"I just, I didn't expect that I would tell you any of that but I probably shouldn't have walked away it was..."

"Why did you tell me?" Olyvar interrupted him, before he could stop himself. He found he needed to know, the curiosity he felt was intense, and when he looked at Loras, he knew that Loras had seen it in his eyes.

Loras did not speak for a long time, he simply sat and looked at Olyvar, and Olyvar looked back at him steadily. "I had to," Loras said at last, just when Olyvar thought he'd never answer. "I needed to tell you."

"But why?" He asked again, his heart starting to beat a little faster. "Why did you need to? I don't understand, Loras."

"Because I could not lie to you," Loras blurted out, "I looked into your eyes...and I needed to tell you the truth. It was strange, I...I usually don't let my guard down with anyone, the only person I was ever so open with was..." He trailed off, and bit his lip, looking away.

"Was who?" Olyvar asked him, his voice soft.

"Was Renly." Loras whispered, and Olyvar nodded, a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

"So then...what made you open up to me in the same way you did with Renly?" He asked quietly, already half knowing what his answer would be, or perhaps he was only hoping, he wasn't sure.

"Because I...I have grown to care for you Loras admitted, meeting his gaze squarely. "More than I thought possible, so soon after Renly. But, it's true, I care for you, I have feelings for you, and I know you won't ever be able to return those feelings but I..." He trailed off, and looked at Olyvar, waiting for a response. Olyvar's heart bounded fast, he'd felt drawn to Loras from the very start...he just hadn't quite known what those feelings truly were, not until now.

He rose slowly, and approached Loras, who looked up at him, uncertainty clear in his gaze.

"Olyvar?" He asked, and Olyvar stepped closer, making Loras look still more uncertain.

"Did you mean what you said, Loras? Do you truly have feelings for me?"

"Yes, I..." But Olyvar didn't let him finish, instead he leaned down, and did something that he only now released he'd wanted to do for a while. He kissed him.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Chapter Eight

Loras felt himself go very still as Olyvar's lips softly touched his own. For a moment, he could do nothing, he was too surprised to react. Then, he found his body slowly relaxing, and he kissed Olyvar back, letting himself get lost in the moment and banishing all other thoughts for the moment.

Their kiss was hesitant, but sweet, and when Olyvar pulled back slightly, he smiled at him. Loras found himself smiling too, and his heart beat a little faster as he looked at him.

"It seems I might have been wrong," He said after a long moment. "Perhaps there is a chance that you might return my feelings after all."

"Yes," Olyvar agreed, smiling at him once more. "Perhaps there is."

Loras smiled again, and was about to lean in for another kiss when a knock came at Olyvar's door. Loras couldn't help frowning, and he cursed the timing of whoever was outside.

"Come in," Olyvar called, and Loras was glad to hear that there was the slightest hint of annoyance in his tone.

As the door opened, Loras turned to it, and was surprised to find that Margaery was standing there.

"What are you doing here?" He asked his sister, not bothering to hide his irritation. She'd known he'd come here to talk to Olyvar, what could be so important as to warrant her interrupting them?

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Margaery said, looking between Olyvar and her brother. "Loras, father wants to see you, he's had word from King's Landing, he says it's important."

"Is it Stannis?" Loras asked at once. "Has he set sail?"

"Father wouldn't tell me," Margaery told him. "He just said that you were to come and see him at once."

Loras frowned a little, but he got up, and looked at Olyvar, his gaze a mixture of annoyance, regret, and something that looked like excitement.

"I'll be back," He told him, and then he followed his sister out of the room.

When they reached his father's solar, Loras was unsurprised to see that Garlan and Willas were already there.

"What news?" He asked the moment Margaery had left and the door was closed.

"We have received a message from King's Landing," His father said. "Stannis Baratheon will set sail for the capital on the morrow from Dragonstone. He is sending an army by foot as well, but they will not attack until his ships have breached the city gates."

"When are we to march?" Loras asked. He felt tense, but also satisfied, finally vengeance would be his, and when Stannis lay dead then, he knew, he could move on with Olyvar without any shadows marring the time they spent together. Soon, he knew, Renly would truly be at peace.

"You and Garlan will ready the men at once," His father told him. "You are to leave at dawn, and move with all haste. Our presence will be needed if the Capitol is to be spared."

Loras looked at Garlan, and then nodded at his father. "It will be done, father. Stannis Baratheon will never sit the Iron Throne, that I can promise you."

His father nodded in approval, and gave his sons a small smile. "I shall be riding as well," He said. "Lord Tarly and I will lead the centre, while you two will lead the vanguard. We will take around 60000 men, I think, that should be enough."

"What of the Redwyne fleet?" Willas asked. "Will they be joining you to combat Stannis's ships?"

"No," His father said, "The royal fleet will deal with Stannis's ships, our aim is to destroy his foot soldiers."

"How many men does Stannis have, do we know?" Garlan asked, but Loras didn't listen to his father's answer. His mind was working furiously, and the spark of an idea was starting to take root in his mind.

Later that evening when all the preparations had been done, Loras found himself outside his brother's chamber. He wanted to talk to Garlan, there was something that he needed to ask of him.

He knocked on his brother's door, and waited for him to answer. When he did, Loras gave him a small smile in greeting.

"Can I come in?" He asked his brother.

"Yes, of course, but shouldn't you be getting some rest?" Garlan asked, stepping aside to let him enter.

"I will, but I wanted to speak with you first."

"What do you wish to speak about?" Garlan asked his brother, pouring them both a cup of wine.

"I had an idea regarding the fight against Stannis." He explained, not quite meeting his brother's eyes.

"Yes, what is it? And why didn't you tell father about it?"

Loras hesitated, unsure how to phrase his request. He didn't know what Garlan would say, but he was here now, he wouldn't back out of his decision.

"Loras?" Garlan asked, snapping Loras from his thoughts. Loras looked at him, and took a deep breath before speaking.

"Well...I didn't tell father because it is...well, a personal favour, I suppose you would say."

Garlan stared at him, clearly curious. "So, what is this personal favour, Loras?" He asked.

"I want you to wear Renly's armour into battle." Loras said at last, looking at his brother steadily.

Garlan stared at Loras in surprise. Clearly, he had definitely not been expecting that.

"Why?" He asked him after a long silence. "Why would you ask this of me, brother?"

Loras sighed, once again looking for the words to explain how he felt. "Well...I was thinking about Stannis's army," He began. "How many of them would you say were Renly's bannermen?"

"The vast majority of them," Garlan answered, frowning at his brother. "But what difference does that make, Loras? They're Stannis's men now, and Renly is dead."

"Yes," Loras said, "They forgot Renly quick enough, but what if they saw him again on the battlefield? How would they react then?"

Garlan frowned again, but there was a spark of interest in his eyes now. "You have a point," He said slowly, "But why me? Why don't you wear the armour?"

Loras sighed and shook his head. "I can't, Garlan," He said, "Renly's armour wouldn't fit me, but you have a broader frame than I do, it would fit you quite well."

Garlan considered for a moment. He knew how close Loras and Renly had been, and wearing Renly's armour certainly couldn't hurt, especially if it helped their chances even slightly. "All right," Garlan said at last. "I will do this for you. I will wear Renly's armour into battle when we face Stannis."

Loras looked faintly surprised for a moment, but then he smiled at his brother. "Thank you," He said, and he meant it. Although he hadn't said it to Garlan, there was another reason why he'd asked this of his brother. Part of him wanted Renly's bannermen to be sorry for forgetting Renly so quickly, but another part wanted to show Stannis that Renly's memory would always live on, and he hoped that Stannis would see the magnitude of the crime he had committed by taking Renly's life.

"You should go and get some rest," Garlan said, breaking the silence between them.

"Yes, I will," Loras said, "And thank you again Garlan, really."

"There is no need to thank me," Garlan said, and he smiled at his younger brother. "Now go, get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Loras nodded, and left his brother's chambers, his mind full of thoughts of what would happen when they set out the next day.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Chapter Nine

Olyvar waited in his chambers for a long time after Loras had left with Margaery. He could still imagine the feel of Loras's lips on his, and he yearned for his kiss, to have him here again.

Just as Olyvar had decided that Loras wasn't coming back that night, there was a soft knock at his door. Olyvar got up, and opened it, unable to keep the smile off his face when he saw that it was indeed Loras who was waiting outside.

"Loras," He murmured, stepping aside to let him in. "Is everything all right?"

"We're marching tomorrow," Loras told him. "Stannis is sailing for King's Landing."

Olyvar's eyes widened, he'd been half-expecting this but still, it seemed sudden.

"Then...shouldn't you rest?" He asked at last. "If we are to match, tomorrow will be a long day."

Loras nodded, and moved so that he was closer to Olyvar. "I will," He said, "But I promised that I would return to see you, did I not?"

"You did but you didn't have to..." He trailed off as Loras leaned in and kissed him. His lips were soft, and Olyvar immediately melted into Loras's touch.

They broke apart after a few moments, and Loras smiled at him. "Oh, but I did," He said, "We were interrupted before I could kiss you. Truth be told, I was not pleased by Margaery's timing."

Olyvar couldn't help a small chuckle at that. "Truth be told, I wasn't either." He admitted, and Loras chuckled too.

To his surprise, Loras moved towards the door, a smile still on his lips. "Get some rest," Loras told him, "I will see you at dawn tomorrow."

With that he left, and Olyvar sighed, before doing as Loras suggested and going to bed to get some rest in preparation for the day ahead.

The next morning, Loras woke before dawn, and after a hurried meal of bread and honey, he donned his armour and headed down to the courtyard. Once there, he mounted his horse and waited as the other knights did the same around him. Then, when the time came for them to leave, his brother Garlan rode to the front of the column, and they set off through the gates and towards the battle to come.

The next days passed in a blur for Loras. He was unable to spend time with Olyvar, his full attention had to be on the fight ahead. He and Garlan rode hard to reach King's Landing, knowing that it was imperative that they reached the city in time. It was tiring, even with the careful breaks they took at night, but Loras's determination meant that he barely cared if he was tired. He rode along at his brother's side day after day, his eyes ahead and his thoughts on Stannis, and on revenge.

One night, when it seemed their journey would never end, the mass of the buildings of King's Landing became visible on the horizon.

Garlan called a halt, and the column stopped almost at once. Garlan drew a Myrish far-eye from his saddlebag, and used it to look for Stannis's armies.

"He has soldiers surrounding the city gate," He said. "Our job is to attack from behind. It looks like the fight is already under way."

"Have they penetrated the city?" Loras asked his brother.

"I can't see," Garlan said, frowning. "But we'd best move, father's force can't be far behind us now."

Loras nodded, and with that, Garlan, dressed as promised in Renly's armour, gave the order and the column charged, right towards stannis's forces.

Apart from tourneys, Loras had no real battle experience. He'd trained every day since he could hold a stick though, and with the blood and gore he'd seen in melees, he felt more than ready to face Stannis's forces. He cut down his first two soldiers within the first minute, and he was onto a third, a tall Florent knight, without a moment's hesitation.

He and the knight fought furiously, sword against mace, and Loras gritted his teeth. The Florents were bannermen to the Tyrells, and seeing this knight before him made his anger at their treason flare.

He slashed out, catching the Florent off guard, and took the man's sword arm off at the shoulder in a single stroke. The man screamed and tumbled off his horse, and was promptly trampled by the fighters around them.

Meanwhile, Olyvar was holding his own well in his first battle. He'd always been good with a sword, not so killed as Loras perhaps, but good enough. He'd also been trained by the Knights of the Vale, so he knew how to hold his own in a fight. The soldiers facing him were unprepared, and so he used the element of surprise to his advantage. He fought hard, battle lust coursing through of veins, but, as he attacked a spear-wielding soldier, he didn't see the man who made a lunge at him from behind.

As Loras scanned the field for his next opponent, he saw a sight that made his blood run cold. Olyvar was fighting hard, and while he was distracted, a Baratheon knight was preparing to attack him from behind. Loras didn't think. Adrenalin rushed through his body, and he urged his horse forward, desperate to reach Olyvar in time. Just as the Baratheon was lifting his sword to strike, Loras slammed his shield into the man, and he fell off his horse with a huge crash of armour and lay still.

Olyvar, now finished with his opponent, whipped around and stared at Loras, shock on his face.

"Are you all right?" Loras asked, and somehow, Olyvar heard him over the sounds of battle.

"I'm fine...I, you just saved my life."

"Well, of course," Loras said, and he gave him a small smile. "I couldn't very well let you die now could I?"

Olyvar smiled, and was about to respond when a war horn sounded. Looking around, Loras saw that his father's force had finally arrived, and with them came the Lannister army, with Lord Tywin at its head.

Loras's heart pounded. In that moment, he knew that if he wanted to find Stannis and end his cause for good, he had to do it now. He scanned the battlefield, and spotted Stannis's command tent close to the sea, where he could escape now that things clearly would not go his way.

Loras urged his horse in Stannis's direction, and Olyvar, who had followed his gaze, guarded his back in case any soldiers tried to attack him from behind.

Time seemed to slow for Loras as he finally reached Stannis's tent. He brought down the guards outside with little difficulty, and then Stannis came out, alerted by the sound of swords so close to his tent.

Seeing Stannis sent a new wave of anger of determination through Loras, and he dismounted his horse to face the pretender face to face. Stannis's eyes were cold and remote as they studied him, and without a word, he draw his blade.

Loras went immediately on the offensive, pressing Stannis hard. The man was a good swordsman, but Loras was quicker, and more recently practised with a sword.

His fury drove him on, and he rained down blows on this man who had changed everything for him. He gave Stannis no rest, and it was not long before the man before him began to tire.

"Yield," Loras snarled, "Yield and I'll make your end quick. You have no chance of winning."

Stannis did not respond. He only parried Loras's next blow, his expression grim and hard as iron. Loras struck again, then feinted, trying to catch Stannis off guard. To his slight surprise, the trick worked, and as Stannis moved to block the strike, Loras launched his true attack. His blade pierced Stannis's abdomen, and bit deep, eliciting a roar of pain from Stannis. Loras gave a darkly satisfied smile, and yanked out his sword, twisting it as he did.

He stared down at Stannis, who lay groaning on the ground. He was not dead yet, but before Loras could finish him, two of Stannis's men raced for them.

The soldiers paid Loras no mind. They grabbed their king and hurried to carry him towards the boats.

Loras stared after them. He didn't try to pursue, he knew he wouldn't make it to the boats in time in time to stop them. He only hoped that his blow would be enough. He hoped that Stannis would soon die, and that Renly would finally be avenged.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire Series.

Author's Note: Warning, this chapter contains a lemon. This story was rated M for a reason, so please, if you don't like lemons, don't read it. Any thoughts on the chapter are as usual very welcome. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter Ten

The hours directly following the battle were somewhat of a blur for Loras. They had won. King's Landing was safe and Stannis was likely dying, or even dead already. It seemed that his quest for vengeance had been achieved, and the relief of that clouded his mind.

There was still work to be done after Stannis escaped. Prisoners were captured, and had to be led in chains to the castle dungeons. The wounded were helped, and when all of that was done, it was time for the heroes of the day to make their way to the Red Keep, where King Joffrey was waiting to issue rewards, and to dispense punishments for those prisoners who had been captured.

In all honesty, as he rode through the city on his weary horse, Loras would have given much to be able to avoid this gathering before the king. He felt slightly dizzy with relief, and weary from his first real battle. Nevertheless, he was expected in the Throne Room, so he put his feelings aside to be dealt with later.

Loras had been inside the Red Keep's throne Room many times while he stayed in King's Landing during Robert's rule, but now, things were different. There were no longer any signs of Robert in this room, his favoured hunting tapestries were gone, and the room was decked out in Lannister colours, despite the fact that Joffrey was a Baratheon. The mood in the room was different too, he noticed, the people here wore expressions that ranged from blank, to overwhelming relief.

As Loras took his place with his father and brother, he glanced up at the monstrosity that was the Iron Throne. On it, Joffrey sat, looking even more smug than Loras remembered him to be. A golden crown sat on his head, and he looked comfortable, despite the spikes and splintered blades of the throne he sat upon.

"Tonight, I shall reward those who have shown loyalty to the crown by protecting my city from the traitor, Stannis Baratheon," Joffrey announced. "And I will also punish those who have betrayed their rightful king, for in my reign, treason shall never go unpunished."

There was silence in the throne room as Joffrey paused to let his words sink in. Loras could see a small smirk on the boy's face, as though the thought of punishing traitors gave him pleasure. He shuddered inwardly. The Mad King loved punishing people too, he thought, whether they were traitors or not.

"Firstly," Joffrey continued after the silence had stretched on for what seemed an eternity, "I declare my grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister, to be the savoir of this city, and I, along with the Small Council, request that he take his rightful place as my Hand."

"I would be honoured, Your Grace." Lord Tywin said, and he stepped forward and took his place at the council table, which stood just below the dais where the throne sat.

"Next, I command lord Petyr Baelish to stand and approach the throne."

Baelish stood from the council table, and bowed low before the Throne. Loras frowned, the little man looked more smugly satisfied than he had ever seen him. "I am yours to command, Your Grace." Baelish murmured.

"And you have shown that most ably," Joffrey replied. "For your services to the crown, I hereby decree that you be granted Harrenhal, with all its lands and incomes, to be passed down to your sons and grandsons until the end of time."

Baelish bowed again, his smile widening. "Then I shall have to get myself some sons and grandsons." He remarked, and a small ripple of laughter spread throughout the court. Joffrey gave a smile too, and then motioned for Baelish to retake his place with the Small Council.

"I now ask that Lord Mace Tyrell, Ser Garlan Tyrell, and Ser Loras Tyrell come forward." Joffrey announced, and Loras stepped to the foot of the dais, and bowed along with his father and his brother.

"Lord Tyrell, you and your sons have done the crown a great service tonight," Joffrey noted, looking down on them. "What would your family ask as a reward for your efforts?"

"If it please Your Grace," Lord Tyrell said, "I would ask that we join our houses forever more. My sweet daughter Margaery would make an excellent queen for Your Grace. The only reward I desire is that you marry her, and join your royal house to ours."

Loras had known that this was coming of course, but hearing it still sent a trickle of dread through him. He hated the idea of Margaery being stuck in a marriage with this so-called King, but there was nothing he could do.

"Lord Tyrell, I would be pleased to accept this proposal of marriage between myself and sweet Lady Margaery...however, I am sworn to marry another."

At that, the King's mother, Queen Cersei, rose and addressed her son. "The council has already considered this, Your Grace," She said. "We conclude that the betrothal between you and Lady Sansa Stark was broken when her father was found to be a traitor to the crown. You may put her aside, and accept Lady Margaery as your betrothed."

Joffrey smiled then, and rose from his throne. "My heart is most gladdened by this news," He said. "Lord Tyrell, I will marry your sweet daughter, and our houses will be forever joined."

Loras saw his father's pride and heard the cheers of the crowd, but he couldn't focus on them. He thought only of Margaery, and the life that awaited her as Joffrey's wife.

The court session lasted most of the night. Joffrey awarded knighthoods, and other boons to those who had fought well in the battle, and he punished those who were still loyal to Stannis. His punishments were harsh, brutal even, and with each one, that smile on his face seemed to grow bigger. Loras watched him uneasily, and when the court was finally dismissed, he headed to his chambers with relief.

When Loras reached the chambers that had been assigned to him in the Maidenvault, he was shocked to find Olyvar leaning against the wall outside, clearly waiting for him.

"Olyvar," He said, pausing beside him. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I wanted to see you," Olyvar told him, his eyes filled with an intensity that Loras hadn't seen before. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Loras said, and he opened the door, gesturing for Olyvar to go inside.

When they were both inside, Loras closed the door, and turned to Olyvar. He was closer than he expected him to be, and as he met his gaze, Olyvar stepped closer, and kissed him. This kiss wasn't like the ones they'd shared before. It was a deep kiss, a passionate kiss, and it made Loras's heart race. He pulled Olyvar closer, pressing their bodies together, and kissed him back with everything he felt for him.

After a short while, Olyvar pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. There was affection in his blue eyes, and also lust, and Loras knew that those feelings were mirrored in his own face.

Olyvar leaned in to kiss Loras again, and his hands moved to the bottom of Loras's tunic, and began to slide it up, his intentions clear in the slow, deliberate way he did it.

This time, Loras was the one to pull back slightly, and Olyvar's hand stilled at once, and when he looked at him, Loras could see the question in his eyes even before he asked it.

"Don't you want to?" He asked softly, and Loras felt a slight blush colour his cheeks.

"Of course I do," He told him, his voice just as soft. "But are you ready...I mean, have you ever been with anyone before? We don't have to do this now, not if you aren't sure."

Now it was Olyvar's turn to blush. "No, I haven't been with anyone," He admitted. "But...I do want this. And I trust you."

There was a certainty in his eyes that warmed Loras's insides, and after a moment, Loras smiled at him.

"Good, because I trust you too." He murmured, and then, taking Olyvar's hand in his, he lead him to the bed. They kissed again, and this time, when Olyvar reached for his tunic Loras did not stop him. Indeed, he had already reached for Olyvar's clothes, and was removing them.

It wasn't long before all of their clothes were gone, and then, they moved together, intertwining, becoming as close as it was possible to be. In those moments, they moved as one, and nothing in the world mattered but them.

Afterwards, when their bodies were utterly spent from the pleasure that had shattered through them, they lay in each other's arms, content. Olyvar lifted his head to kiss Loras's neck softly, and Loras smiled almost lazily at the gesture.

He fell asleep in Olyvar's arms that night, and for the first time in a while, there was nothing but relief and happiness in his heart.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: I apologise for the delay in updating. Things have been fairly busy, and writer's block can be a pain. I'd like to thank anyone who has read this story, and I'd like to say a special thank you to TheSlashking. Thank you for your review, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter. :) As always, feel

free to review and tell me your thoughts.

Chapter Eleven

In the next few weeks, Olyvar settled into somewhat of a routine. During the day, he practised his swordplay, sometimes with Loras, and attended court with the rest of the nobles. At night, when most of the castle was sleeping, he and Loras would share a bed, sometimes simply sleeping, and sometimes doing more.

One night, when the two of them lay curled together, Loras shifted slightly in his arms. He had been strangely quiet and distant all night, and Olyvar was beginning to worry.

"What is wrong?" Olyvar asked him softly, one hand coming up to play with his golden-brown curls. "You seem a little troubled tonight."

"It is nothing," Loras told him quietly. "Do not trouble yourself over it."

"I do not want to see you less than happy. Tell me what is on your mind, so that I can help you."

Loras sighed, pressing himself closer to Olyvar, who continued to play absently with his curls. "It is only...well, when are you intending to return home?" He asked at last.

Olyvar's fingers stilled in his hair, and he pulled Loras against him. He should have known this conversation would come, and yet he had not seen Loras's worry until now.

"I'm not going anywhere," He told him softly. "Not until you are. I've already written to my grandmother, I said I wanted to spend some time at court."

"And she will allow it?" Loras asked him.

"Yes," Olyvar assured him, smiling softly. "I am not needed at home, so I will be here, as long as you are."

Loras smiled at that and Olyvar leaned in and kissed him softly. Loras smiled against his lips, and then pulled back slightly to look at him.

"I am glad you'll be staying," He murmured. "This place would be unbearable without you in it."

"Then I will be by your side always," He smiled, and then they fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the feel of being in each other's arms.

A week or so later Margaery, along with a procession of handmaidens and her mother and grandmother, arrived in King's Landing. Her wedding to Joffrey would take place as soon as all of the necessary arrangements were made, and Margaery had to take her place in the court as Joffrey's betrothed as soon as possible.

Loras didn't quite know how to feel about his sister's arrival. He was pleased to see her, of course, but he did not want her to be forced to marry Joffrey, who was cruel and often quite unpredictable.

The day Margaery arrived, she invited Loras to take supper with her that evening. Loras, of course, accepted, and at the agreed time, he headed for his sister's chambers and knocked on the door.

When she opened the door, she pulled Loras immediately into a sisterly embrace.

"I worried for you," She said. "I am glad to see you well."

"There was no need to worry," He assured her, giving her a small smile as he drew back from her slightly. "The battle was won, and I made it through without injury."

"Indeed," His sister said. "Now come in, let us eat, and talk about the things we have both missed."

Loras followed her inside her chambers and sat down at the small table, where a variety of dishes had already been laid out for them.

"How were things in Highgarden when you left?" Loras asked as he poured himself a cup of wine.

"Fairly quiet," Margaery said. "Willas has been doing an excellent job of looking after everything while father has been here in King's Landing."

Loras had to smile at that. He had a lot of respect for his eldest brother, and he knew that Willas would make an excellent lord of Highgarden.

"Of course he is," Loras said. "Grandmother and our mother have taught him well, and he reads more books than anyone I've ever seen."

"That's true, but Willas is caring as well. He is just what Highgarden needs." Loras nodded in agreement with his sister's words. He knew that Margaery shared a lot of Willas's nature, and he could hear the same fondness that he had for their brother in her voice.

"So, are you going to tell me about the battle?" Margaery asked him. "There are rumours that Stannis Baratheon was gravely wounded, is that true?"

Loras nodded again, and took a long drink of wine before setting down his cup. "The rumours are true," He told Margaery after a long moment.

"Do you know who stroke the blow?" Margaery asked him, watching his expression carefully.

"Yes," Loras told her, "I did. During the battle, I faced Stannis in single combat."

"You wounded him? How did you get through the lines?" Margaery asked, her eyes wide.

"We had taken his forces by surprise," He explained, taking another sip of wine. "We broke their lines, and when I saw his command tent, I headed straight towards it. I cut down the guards outside, and then it was only the two of us..."

He trailed off, his mind returning to that night, and to the blood pouring from Stannis's abdomen from his blow.

"Do you think he is dead then?" His sister's voice was low, and her eyes were curious as she looked at him.

"I don't know," Loras said. "The wound was deep, but...I cannot say for certain. I hope he is dead...because that would mean that I got vengeance, that Renly can have peace."

Margaery took her brother's hand in hers, and squeezed it reassuringly. "If the Seven are just, then he is dead." She said softly.

Loras smiled at her gratefully, before gently drawing his hand from hers. She meant her words, he knew, and he hoped that she was right.

"Let us discuss something a little more cheerful than bloodshed, shall we?" Margaery asked, taking a dainty bite from a small cake.

"What would you like to talk about?" Loras asked, piling some slices of wild boar onto his plate.

"Oh, I am not sure," Margaery looked up at him, and Loras could see a spark of amusement in her eyes. "How is Ser Olyvar? I have not seen him since I came back."

Loras felt a slight flush enter his cheeks, and he cursed silently. "He is well," He said carefully, looking at the food on his plate. "He is planning to stay here at court for the time being."

"Is that so?" Margaery smiled innocently. "Well, that is good news, isn't it? I know how close you two were becoming before you left Highgarden."

"Yes, indeed we were." Loras said, and his sister giggled softly.

"I am glad you have him," Margaery said, serious now. "You deserve to be happy, Loras. And I can see that being with him makes you happy, doesn't it?"

"It does," He admitted after a long moment, and Margaery smiled at him.

They spent the rest of the meal talking about trivial things, mostly court gossip, and Loras found that his worries for Margaery had, at least for now, lessened slightly. His sister was charming, and would make friends easily at court, and so he had to believe that she would be all right. As well as that, having his sister here made King's Landing seem a little brighter, and Loras found himself realising that, with both his lover and his sister in the city, he might truly have a chance to be content here.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: Once again I apologise for the delay. I hope to update more regularly after this. I'd like to say a special thank you to DaddyChad for your review. I hope everyone enjoys the chapter, and as always, please feel free to review. :)**_

Chapter Twelve

The day of Margaery's wedding dawned bright and clear, and as Loras woke, he braced himself for a long day of politics of stiff ceremonies. He knew that this wedding was good for his family, but he still had an uneasy feeling about it.

He rolled out of bed, deciding not to wake Olyvar, who lay still sleeping peacefully in his bed. He should take him out of this place for a while, he thought as he looked down at him. A few days spent solely in his company sounded excellent to him.

But that was a thought for tomorrow. For now, he had to get ready, he was to eat breakfast with the King, and the males of both his family and the king's family. It was a tradition before a royal wedding, or so his father had said.

Loras sighed as he dressed in Tyrell green and gold. This breakfast would be uncomfortable no matter what, and he honestly wished that he could avoid it entirely.

As he prepared to leave, he turned back to Olyvar, who still slept on peacefully. He couldn't help smiling. Olyvar looked so peaceful, so beautiful in his sleep, that the sight of him warmed Loras's heart and made him wish that he could stay there, gazing at his lover forever. On impulse, he went to him, and kissed him lightly before turning and leaving the room.

The breakfast was about as stiff and uncomfortable as Loras had feared it would be. Everyone bestowed gifts on the husband-to-be, and Loras watched as Joffrey once again belittled his uncle, the Imp lord Tyrion. Joffrey seemed to take great delight in this, and Loras couldn't help wondering if the whole court found Joffrey's constant tormenting of the dwarf to be some kind of entertainment.

He didn't know Tyrion Lannister well, but nor did he particularly have anything against him. He knew that he'd recently married lady Sansa Stark, which went against his grandmother's plans to marry her to Willas, but still, he couldn't help feeling a twinge of pity for the dwarf as Joffrey carelessly cut apart the priceless book that Tyrion had given to him for a wedding present with his new Valyrian steel sword.

Loras was relieved when the breakfast was over, but he was also a little uneasy. That was because after the breakfast, the procession to the Sept of Baelor, and to his sister's wedding begun.

As he rode through the streets at his brother's side, his mind flashed back to the last wedding he'd attended, the one between Margaery and Renly. It had been a necessary marriage, he'd known that, but still, as he'd watched Renly up there, he'd wanted to stop it, or better yet, to take Margaery's place at Renly's side even though he knew that that was impossible.

Loras shook his head. This wasn't the time, or the place for thoughts like this. Today was about Margaery, and the Tyrells' new alliance with the Lannisters. Today was about the future, not the past.

The wedding was, in Loras's opinion, excessive and ridiculously lavish. To make matters worse, King Joffrey had arranged some...entertainment that made Loras's teeth clench. He had hired five dwarfs, to reenact the War of the Five Kings, and seeing the spectacle, Loras couldn't stand to sit and watch it anymore. So, he got up, and walked out of the wedding, fully intending to go back inside the keep, and find Olyvar, who he hadn't seen all day.

As he left however, someone stepped into his path. Loras sighed and was about to move past, but then, he saw just who it was who was standing before him.

"Brienne of Tarth," He said, knowing he sounded stiff. "What are you doing here?" Loras hadn't seen Renly's former Kingsguard since the night he'd died, and seeing her now was not a pleasant surprise.

"I escorted Jaime Lannister back home," Brienne told him. "Ser Loras...perhaps, we should talk about what happened, the night our king died."

Loras stiffened. Brienne had actually been in the tent when Renly was killed...no doubt she knew exactly what had happened. After a moment, Loras nodded.

"All right," He said. "Let's get inside, there are too many ears out here."

Brienne nodded in agreement, and Loras wordlessly lead the way into the Keep. Finding what appeared to be an unused meeting chamber, Loras went inside and shut the door firmly once Brienne had entered.

"I didn't kill Renly," Brienne said, almost at once. "You must know that, Ser Loras. He was my king...our king, and I was as loyal and as devoted to him as you were. I would have given my life for his if need be, that is why I asked for a place in his Kingsguard, it was the greatest honour I could have imagined for myself."

Loras studied Brienne for a moment, and then nodded. He already knew that she hadn't done it. "I know," He said. "I know...I know that you were loyal to him. I won't lie, I do not care for you, Lady Brienne, but I know that you didn't kill our king."

Brienne's blue eyes flickered with slight surprise at his words. "You do?" She asked. "I thought that you would have been the first to blame me, the others did."

"The others did," He agreed. "They would have killed you if you hadn't run. But I knew that you had no reason to want him dead."

Brienne looked, Loras thought, almost relieved by this. "It was Stannis," She said. "Stannis killed him."

Loras nodded again. He felt...almost glad, like this conversation was something that needed to happen between them. "I know," He said. "I just...how did it happen? You were there...how did Renly die?"

Brienne took a deep breath, and then she looked Loras straight in the eye before she spoke. "He used a shadow with his face to kill him. It just...appeared in the tent, and stabbed him, there was nothing I could do." There was genuine sadness in her voice, and in her eyes, and Loras knew, once again, that she was telling the truth.

"A shadow?" He asked. "How could it...how could a shadow kill someone?"

Brienne shook her head. "It must have been that red woman, the priestess who was with Stannis at the parley."

Loras frowned. He'd never liked the look of the woman, she was dangerous, he'd known it instantly, and he'd had a vague suspicion that she'd helped Stannis kill Renly.

"Blood magic." He muttered, and Brienne nodded, her eyes still sad. Loras had heard of blood magic and the horrors that it could do, and even the thought of it made him shiver.

"Did...did Renly suffer, at the end?" He asked after several long moments of silence. He realised, that even though he'd moved on now, he needed this closure. He'd needed this conversation with Brienne, and once again he couldn't help feeling glad.

"He wasn't conscious for long," Brienne said quietly. "The wound...it killed him quickly. I held him...I knew there was nothing that I could do but, I was with him...at the end. He wasn't alone, Ser Loras."

Loras wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't liked Brienne since she's beaten him in the journey where she'd won her place in the Kingsguard, but now, he could dredge up no dislike towards her. He felt...gratitude. He was grateful, truly grateful, that she'd at least been there when Renly had died. Somehow, that was better than thinking of him dying alone.

Before he could say anything to her however, he heard sounds of shouts and running feet outside. He frowned, and went to the door, wondering what was going on. His hand drifted to his sword hilt, and he carefully opened the door.

The hall outside was in chaos. People were running back and forth, apparently hurrying from the wedding. A few people were even sobbing.

"What's happening out there?" Brienne asked from behind him.

Loras opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, he heard someone shout above the other panicked voices. "The king is dead!"

Loras stood there, frozen by the news. Distantly, he couldn't help wondering how this sudden change in circumstance would change things, both for his family, and for all of Westeros. In that moment, he knew deep down that this would change things, maybe everything, forever.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry once again for the late update. I promise, the next chapter will be updated more quickly than this one was. Anyway, please enjoy the chapter, and feel free to review.

Chapter Thirteen

In the month following King Joffrey's death, King's Landing went through some dramatic changes. Tyrion Lannister, the king's own uncle, was accused of his murder by the king's mother, the queen, and was sentenced to execution. However, Lord Tyrion had escaped, and whilst doing so, he'd murdered his father lord Tywin before leaving the city.

After all of the drama of the past weeks, it was unsurprising that everyone was on edge. Loras, too felt uneasy, and his conversation with Brienne replayed constantly in his mind.

He'd been a little distant with Olyvar too, he knew and that made him feel guilty. He didn't want to be distant with him, but he had a lot to think about, and he was simply grateful that Olyvar understood that.

One morning, Loras was surprised by a knock on his chamber door. He glanced at Olyvar, still sleeping beside him, and rose to answer the door, careful not to disturb his lover's rest.

When he opened the door, he found a page waiting nervously outside. The boy held a small scroll, which he held out to Loras with a bow.

Loras took the scroll, and inclined his head in thanks to the page. He opened the scroll, and read it, a frown creasing his brow as he did.

He hurried through the halls of the Red Keep, intent on reaching his father's chambers. The contents of the scroll had changed things, and he had to speak with lord Tyrell about it as soon as possible.

When he reached his father's chamber, he saw that his brother Garlan was just entering before him. He followed his brother inside, and took a seat beside him across from his father.

Lord Tyrell looked between them, his expression faintly approving.

"I thought you'd both come here. You received my message, I take it?"

"Yes, father. But why now? Surely the Lannisters cannot doubt that we are loyal, we defeated Stannis's forces for them, after all." Garlan said, but lord Tyrell shook his head.

"The Freys have been hopeless in doing anything useful, unsurprisingly. You two must ride for Riverrun, and secure the castle for the crown. The Freys cannot do it, and it must needs be done.. Old lord Frey grows impatient, as does the queen."

Loras couldn't help feeling uneasy. This was typical of Cersei, he thought, she hated the Tyrells, most likely she would be thrilled to be rid of them. But still, Riverrun was not an easy castle to take by force, he know, they'd be away from King's Landing for quite some time.

"When are you suggesting we leave?" Loras asked at last, still frowning slightly.

"On the morrow. Cersei Lannister wants this dealt with, and we can hardly refuse her."

"And why not? Margaery is not yet wed. She should have her brothers by her at the wedding." Loras's temper was rising. It was bad enough that he'd have to leave his sister here, worse still that a large percentage of the Tyrell guards would be gone, leaving Margaery vulnerable. He trusted neither the Lannisters, nor the Kingsguard, and he knew what he'd need to do to keep his sister safe, no matter how much he misliked it.

"Then it appears I will see you on the morrow." He said curtly, and he rose, and left his father's presence, ignoring his father's call for him to return. He walked back to his own chambers, his heart sinking further with every step he took.

Olyvar shifted in Loras's bed and opened his eyes. He could already tell that the bed was empty, and he let out a soft sigh.

Loras had a lot to deal with, he reminded himself as he sat up. He didn't mean to be distant, but Olyvar had to admit that it still hurt all the same.

Loras was really the only person he cared for at court. So many of the other lords and ladies spent their time scheming, and Olyvar really had no time for that sort of thing.

Olyvar's thoughts were cut off as the chamber door opened and Loras came in, looking deeply troubled. Olyvar got out of bed and wet to him, wrapping his arms around him cautiously.

"What is wrong?" He murmured, kissing him lightly. Loras sighed and leaned into him, his face more troubled than he'd seen it in a long while.

"I am to leave King's Landing on the morrow," he said. "My brother and I are to take Riverrun, to show our loyalty to the crown."

Olyvar frowned, and held him tighter. "On the morrow, truly? Then we should make ready to leave."

Loras, however appeared even more troubled, and Olyvar's frown deepened as Loras finally spoke. "That is the problem, Olyvar. I need you to stay here while I am gone."

Olyvar was shocked. "What?" He asked, the hurt that Loras's words had inflicted clear in his voice. "You wish me to stay? Do you tire of me then, my lord?" There was a hint of anger there too, cutting through the hurt. He felt like a fool, he should never have stayed here, at the side of a lord's son who seemed only cared for his pretty face.

Loras pulled away from him, hurt and a little anger flashing across his face. "No, of course not. How could you say such a thing?"

"Well, it seems clear enough to me," Olyvar retorted. "You have been nought but distant with me since the wedding. And now you want me to stay here whilst you go to battle. Did I not promise to stay by your side? Does my presence not please you? Well, if leaving me here is what you want, then so be it. Perhaps I should have foreseen this, in truth. I was foolish I suppose, to think that this could ever last."

"It is not what I want, Olyvar. Nor do I tire of you. Gods be good, you are one of the few things I love in this accursed shithole of a city. How could you think that I'd ever truly want to be parted from you?"

Olyvar stared at him, completely stunned. Loras had never said that he loved him, not once, and Olyvar hadn't been sure that he ever would.

"You love me?" Olyvar asked him, and Loras looked at him, and nodded.

"Yes, of course I do. Surely you didn't doubt that as well?"

"You...you never said before." Olyvar mumbled, and Loras took a slow step towards him. Olyvar stayed where he was as Loras cupped his face, and met his gaze.

"Olyvar, I love you," He said. "And I could never tire of you. Please know that, and know also that I do not wish to leave you in this place. I know I have been distant, and for that I am truly sorry. But it was not because of you, Olyvar, I would have told you if it was."

"Then why ask me to stay? Is it that you fear for my safety? Do you doubt my skill in battle?"

"No, of course not. I know you are skilled enough, the knights of the Vale saw to that. The truth is, I need a favour from you, Olyvar."

"Truly? What is it?"

"I need you to stay here, because I must ensure that my sister is well protected. I trust neither the Lannisters nor the Kingsguard, I can trust only you. Would you watch over her for me?"

Olyvar's eyes lit with understanding and relief and he nodded his ascent. "Yes, I will. I'll guard lady Margaery with my life if need be, I swear it."

Loras's expression became relieved and he smiled. "Thank you." He said, and he kissed his lover lightly.

Olyvar pressed him close, and kissed him back. They spent the rest of the day and the night together, and when the time came to sleep, their hearts were both a little lighter. Things between them had been tense, and now it seemed, they were better then they ever had been. Olyvar couldn't help thinking that this was all too good to be true. He pushed those dark thoughts aside, however, and told himself that he was only being paranoid.

Even with the mental scolding he'd given himself, Olyvar Oakheart didn't sleep well that night. He lay in bed beside Loras, and tried in vain not to consider that this could be the last night he would do so.

The next morning Loras woke early, and was surprised to find Olyvar awake beside him.

"You are awake early this morning. Are you well?" He asked him.

"Quite well," Olyvar assured him, giving him a small smile. "Do not fear for me, I am not the one leaving for war."

"You need not fear for me either," Loras told him. "No Riverlands knight will defeat me, Olyvar. I will return to you in a few turns of the moon I expect."

Olyvar nodded, and smiled once more, and Loras returned the smile, not noticing the worry that hung around his lover like a dark fog.

After he had dressed, and just as he was about to leave, Olyvar stopped him with a hand on his arm. Loras turned to him, confused, and Olyvar kissed him passionately, pulling him close.

Loras was surprised, but he returned the kiss, his eyes falling shut as he did. When Olyvar pulled back, Loras gave him a puzzled look.

"What was that for?" He asked, and Olyvar looked at him, his expression serious.

"To tell you that I love you too." He said, and he smiled at him. "Now go, so that you can come back to me." He turned away at that, and Loras left the chamber, the feel of Olyvar's kiss leaving a warm tingle upon his lips.

Loras and Garlan set out at noon, along with twenty thousand loyal Tyrell men. Loras felt rather conflicted as his white horse passed through the gates of the Red Keep and on through the city. He hated this place, that much was true, and he would be glad to be breathing air that did not have the city stench. Still, deep down, there was an unease in him that he could not settle. He ignored it as best he could, much as Olyvar had done, but as he passed through the King's Gate of the city, he had the ominous feeling that when he returned, much within these walls would have changed and not for the better.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is reading this story, I really appreciate it. As always, feel free to review and tell me your thoughts on this chapter. Enjoy. :)

Chapter Fourteen

The days after Loras left were quiet for Olyvar. He kept an eye out for Margaery at court, but she seemed content surrounded by her ladies. He had little to do in those first days, and he found himself missing Loras more and more as time went by.

About a week after Loras had left, some disturbing happenings became known around the court. The old High Septon had died, apparently under suspicious circumstances. Some said that he had been killed, and they wondered uneasily who could have done it.

Olyvar wouldn't have cared very much about these tidings, but the other news troubled him enough that he paid it more mind than he usually would have. Since the war, more and more refugees had come to King's Landing. Among them were a large group for poor, extremely religious peasants who called themselves Sparrows. They had taken over the Sept of Baelor, and the new High Septon was their leader. Only a day later, the sparrows attacked a brothel in the city, the courtiers said, and it seemed that the queen regent had decided to bankroll the sparrows, therefore allowing them to reform the Faith Militant.

Olyvar, although not an avid student of history, knew well enough that in the old days, the Faith Militant had caused the realm a lot of trouble. They had fought against Targaryen rule for many years, and had been disbanded, leaving the crown to deal with all forms of justice.

Despite the fact that the courtiers were uneasy, things seemed to go on as normal in the Red Keep. Olyvar kept a closer eye on Margaery, and after a few days, she seemed to notice his concern.

He had seen her taking a stroll alone in the gardens and so had followed her at a distance, remembering his promise to Loras that he would protect his sister. Margaery turned her head and saw him, and she smiled when she caught his gaze.

"Ser Olyvar, come," She said. "Walk with me, since you seem to be intent on it." Her tone was light, and her smile brightened as he joined her.

"I apologise if I am intruding, my lady, it was not my intent." He said, giving her a small bow.

"Not at all ser Olyvar. In truth, I am glad to see a friendly face, especially now that my brothers are gone."

Olyvar frowned slightly at the mention of Loras's absence. He felt uneasy whenever he thought of it, although he couldn't figure out why that would be so. He had felt safe with Loras near him, but now, he felt oddly alone, and vulnerable.

"Ser Olyvar?" Margaery asked, giving him a concerned glance. "Are you quite well?"

Olyvar blinked, and then nodded, snapping out of his thoughts. "Yes, of course, I am quite well, my lady. I simply miss the company of your brother as you do."

Margaery nodded, giving him a knowing smile. "I'm sure you do," She said. "I know how close you two are."

Olyvar couldn't help the flush that rose to his cheeks at that. Despite the fact that he and Loras had been lovers for a while, anyone else mentioning the fact made him nervous.

Seeing his expression, Margaery laughed. "Oh, there is no need to blush so. My brother tells me everything, ser Olyvar, well...almost everything, anyway."

"I used to be the same way with my brother," Olyvar admitted, smiling a little. "He and I were always close. Most people mistook us for twins, though he is two years my senior."

Margaery smiled at that. "Your brother is the heir of Old Oak, correct? He rode with Garlan and Loras to take Riverrun."

Olyvar shrugged. "Yes, that's right, though I wasn't sure if he'd ridden with them. We...well, my brother and I are not so close as we once were." He sighed, his expression turning troubled. His feelings were always mixed these days when he thought of his brother, but in this moment, all he could feel for him was guilt and weary acceptance that their relationship would never be the same.

"Oh? And why is that?" Margaery asked as the two of them turned a corner. Olyvar glanced at her, and sighed, trying to find the right words to explain.

"Well, things were fine until our mother died. As I said, we were close and then...well, we weren't. My mother died from a sickness, and well...my brother had just returned from a visit to Dorne, where the same sickness was raging. I shouldn't have, but I blamed him for my mother's death. It wasn't his fault of course, I've realised that, but at the time I suppose I wasn't thinking straight. After that, he and I just couldn't go back to the way we'd been before and I was sent to foster with lord Royce."

Margaery looked at him, her gaze a mixture were sympathy and sadness. "THAT is a great pity. Perhaps some day, you two will reconnect, and forgive past wrongs done to you."

"Perhaps," Olyvar sighed as they stepped out of the garden. "But I fear that day will never come."

Margaery was about to reply, but then, without warning, figures were appearing from the shadows all around them. They were not guards, Olyvar saw that straight away, and nor were they nobles. For a moment, he was bewildered, until he saw the seven-pointed star carved into one man's forehead. These, he released with mounting worry, were the sparrows, the newly reformed Faith Militant.

"Lady Margaery of house Tyrell," One man said, stepping forward. "We are here to arrest you in the name of the Faith, for crimes committed against gods and men. You have lied and deceived the people of this city, and you must pay the gods' price for your sins Come with us quietly and no harm shall be done to you."

Olyvar acted at once, drawing his blade and stepping in front of Margaery protectively. The Faith Militant didn't draw back, indeed their leader took a step forward.

"This is your future queen," Olyvar snapped, glaring at them. "Stand down, or I will fetch the Goldcloaks to clear you out of the castle like the filth you are."

His words were harsh, in the hopes of intimidating them, but it only seemed to anger them further. Many of them drew crude weapons, and they all took steps forward, forming a tight circle around him and Margaery.

"Stand down, ser," The leader warned him. "You are interfering in the justice of the gods. If you do not step aside, we will have no choice but to take you both by force."

"I will not stand down," He replied. "Your allegations are unfounded, you will be the one to stand down. You have no right to be here, leave or things will go badly for you."

The leader said not another word, instead swinging out at Olyvar with a crude wooden club. Olyvar cut him down swiftly with a single blow from his sword, only to find three more of them blocking his way, and two others already holding Margaery back. He kept fighting, hoping that help would soon come, but it would seem that his hope was in vain. As he felt something hard strike the back of his head, his last thought before he lost consciousness was that he'd failed Loras, and that he was sorry, and that he hoped Loras knew he'd tried his best even if his best had not been enough.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: Thank you as always to those who are reading this story. As always, enjoy, and feel free to review. :)

Chapter Fifteen

Pain. He was in pain, and he was bitterly cold, that was all that registered with Olyvar when he woke. He tried to open his eyes, but he was finding it more difficult than it ought to be, his eyelids were too heavy, and it pained him to even try to move them. His head hurt, more than he could have believed possible, and he had no idea where he could be.

He shifted slightly, and winced, unable to stand the stab of pain that went through his head. He hissed in pain, his eyes still squeezed shut, and wondered what kind of situation he was in.

He could tell that he lay upon a stone floor, but other than that, he knew nothing about his current surroundings. He gathered his nerve and slowly cracked open his eyes, trying to ignore the urge to close them again immediately.

He slowly, very slowly, lifted his head, and looked around warily at the chamber he was lying in. He cursed silently to himself. Clearly, this place, this room, was a prison cell. It was dark, the only light coming in through a slight crack under the heavy, ancient looking wooden door.

Where was he? How had he gotten here? Olyvar's confusion was growing, and it was mixing rapidly with a dawning sense of dread. He remembered the attack, the Faith Militant, and abruptly, he realised it: he must be at the Sept of Baelor, and that, combined with what he knew of the sparrows' previous actions in the city, made his already cold body shake with fear.

He'd utterly failed then, hadn't he? Margaery was likely here too, he thought, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that he could do for her. Gods, he could hardly lift his head, let alone stand, and so, with hopelessness slowly weighing down his heart, he lay back against the floor, and waiting to see what his fate was to be.

Within days, loras had decided that he did not like the Riverlands, not one bit. As the days dragged past and the army marched slowly onwards, Loras found himself growing more and more miserable.

Part of this, of course, was the cold emptiness of sleeping alone at night, and the fact that he missed Olyvar more than he could say. However, that was not the only reason for his low spirits. The Riverlands were...well, wet. Loras didn't think he'd ever seen a wetter, muddier place in his entire life, and it irritated him to no end. He wanted to be home, or even in King's Landing, not here where every minute was an annoyance to him.

It was about a week and a half into the march when the messenger came, and spoke quietly to his brother Garlan as they rode. Loras was too far away to hear what was said, but he could see by the look on his brother's face that whatever the messenger had told him was far from good. He felt his stomach twist with unease, and for some reason, he knew that this message would change things, would even change the Tyrells' movements perhaps. News that could make normally steady Garlan look like that could not be anything but awful.

Garlan ordered an early halt that evening, and Loras met with him in his tent, finding his brother pacing back and forth, clearly agitated and upset.

"What's wrong?" Loras asked, his voice sharp with anxiety. "What has happened to make you react so badly, brother?"

"It would seem that there have been troubles back in King's Landing," Garlan responded, finally halting in his pacing and leaning against the tent's wall. "There have been certain...incidents." Garlan's face was tight with worry and anger, and Loras felt his own anxiety growing.

"What troubles?" He asked, his voice rising. "What has happened?"

"The Faith Militant has been reformed, it seems." His brother said, looking grim. "They have taken over the Sept of Baelor."

Loras frowned at that. The Faith Militant? They were the problem? But how, and what could they have possibly done in such a short amount of time? "How did the Faith Militant return? And what could they have done to provoke such worry in you, Garlan?"

"Cersei Lannister has bankrolled the Faith Militant, Loras," Garlan said flatly. "And it would seem, they are more than happy to listen to her orders, at least for now."

"What have they done?" Loras asked again, and the look on his brother's face told him that he'd better brace himself.

"They took Margaery, and they're holding her prisoner at the Sept of Baelor."

"What? But how? And why? Margaery has done nothing to upset the Faith, surely."

"The Faith claims that Margaery deceived the king and the city as a whole by lying about being a maiden. They say she is not so innocent as she'd like everyone to believe, and they are holding her to await trial."

"But...but that's ridiculous! How can father let this happen? And what do we do about it?" Why hadn't Olyvar stopped this, Loras wondered. Was he unable to? Had Margaery been hurt by these radicals? All Loras wanted in that moment was to get on his horse and ride to the capital with all speed.

"Father has told us to do nothing, to continue on as planned." Garlan said, but clearly, he disagreed. "He says that he can handle the situation without us coming back."

"Handle the situation? Where was father when this happened? Why didn't he stop this?" Loras's anger was growing, and he took Garlan's place, pacing back and forth across the tent. From his place near the wall, Garlan sighed, running a hand agitatedly through his hair. "I know, this is frustrating, but we have orders, Loras. We can't just ignore that."

"Oh? And why not? Our sister is in danger, Garlan, and we're just supposed to do what? March on a castle that means nothing to us or our House? How can we not do something?"

"Because we're doing our duty," Garlan said. "Loras, this is hard, I know it is, but for now, we're going to need to deal with it. I don't like it anymore than you do brother but-"

Before Garlan could finish, the tent flap was flung open, and a young man wearing the Oakheart colours stormed in. He had blonde hair, and for a moment, Loras could have sworn he was looking at Olyvar, but no, this man looked a little older than his lover was, and Loras had never seen Olyvar look as angry as this man appeared to be now.

Garlan turned to the stranger with a weary expression on his face.

"Ser Willam, now isn't the time for-"

"My lord, I must leave here immediately," The young man interrupted sharply, his blue eyes flashing. "My brother has been taken by the Faith Militant, I must go and see that he is freed before those religious radicals do nothing foolish."

Ser Willam...where had Loras heard that name before? And then it came to him. Of course...Willam was Olyvar's elder brother...but then, that meant that...no. It couldn't be. Olyvar couldn't have been taken, but even as he thought it, Loras knew in his heart that it was true, and in that moment, he knew that his lover was in grave danger, and that he could not sit by and leave him to his fate. He would do something, because if he didn't, and anything happened, he knew he'd blame himself for it forever.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: I'd like to thank everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please feel free to review.

Chapter Sixteen

Fury and anxiety battled within the mind of Ser Willam Oakheart as he faced the two Tyrell brothers. He had gotten the scroll moments ago, and upon reading it, he had known that he had to act. No matter how mixed his feelings towards his younger brother were, Oakhearts looked out for each other, and Willam knew that it was his duty as a brother to do that for Olyvar now.

He cared little about what the Tyrells would say of his decision to leave the camp at once. His little brother was in grave danger, and he would go to him, even if it meant fighting his way through this whole army to do it. He glared fiercely at the Tyrells, who had yet to respond to his words about Olyvar's imprisonment, and waited impatiently for them to speak.

After what seemed like years, Ser Garlan at last broke the thick silence in the tent. "Your brother was taken as well? When did this happen, Ser Willam, and why?"

"A few days ago, it seems," Willam replied shortly, his voice raw with anger and impatience. "He was taken whilst trying to protect your sister the lady Margaery, and they are holding him for interfering in the gods' justice." Disgust dripped from his voice, making his opinion on the so-called Faith Militant absolutely clear.

To his surprise, Willam noticed how pale Ser Loras had gotten upon hearing his words. Perhaps it was only the mention of his sister's plight, but it seemed to Willam that Loras was actually worried about his brother's safety. That was interesting, Willam thought, but right now, he couldn't dwell on it.

"Garlan, we have to do something. Not only have the Faith Militant directly attacked our House, they have also attacked our most loyal bannermen as well. We cannot stand for this, orders or no orders, surely you can see that."

"Loras, we've spoken about this, father said-"

"I don't care what he said! We are not doing nothing, Garlan, I won't have it!"

Willam watched the brothers argue from the sidelines, and an unexpected pang of sadness and regret went through him at the sight. He'd been close to his own brother once, and argued with him easily as these two were doing now, with little fear that the angry words would harm their relationship. But things had not been like that with Olyvar for some years, and watching the Tyrells, Willam couldn't help wondering if he and Olyvar would ever be close again. Maybe, he thought darkly, they would never get the chance to fix things, and that thought was the worst of all.

Suddenly, Willam couldn't take another second of it. He had to act, and he had to do it now. He turned his back on the Tyrells, and strode out of the tent, not waiting to be dismissed. He hurried through the camp, and gathered the Oakheart men who'd ridden with him, before leaving the camp with them, riding hard with his men for the capital, and the brother who waited for him there. It did not matter how complicated things were, Willam vowed in that moment that he'd fix it, and that he'd bring his brother home.

Loras's mind was an utter mess. Really, there were no other words that would accurately describe his mental state at that moment. He felt angry, afraid, guilty, agitated and about a dozen other emotions that he couldn't even find the will or energy to identify. What would be the point, anyway? Identifying his feelings wouldn't change anything, would it?

"I'm not marching another step forward with this army," Loras said, finally snapping. "I don't care, Garlan, I won't do it. Not for father, not for you, not for anyone. This situation has to be taken care of and father can't do it alone, surely you know that, don't you?"

"Yes, it does need dealing with, and it will be," Garlan replied, his patience clearly growing thin. "Father will deal with it, as I said before. And no harm will come to Margaery, the Faith Militant wouldn't be so foolish as to hurt their future queen." It was clear that his brother was trying to be reassuring, but Loras didn't feel in the least comforted.

"And Olyvar?" He asked his brother, trying not to let his voice break on his lover's name. "Would they be foolish enough to hurt him? He does not have half the protection that Margaery does, and I'm not there to..." He broke off, biting down on his lip sharply to keep him from saying anything else. Garlan didn't know of their relationship, and now was not the time to enlighten his brother about it.

Garlan looked at him, a slight frown appearing on his face at his words. Then a flicker of something that could have been understanding passed behind his eyes, and he nodded, his expression clearing. "Is this what concerns you, Loras? The Oakheart boy's safety? He is a noble as well, the Faith will not harm him, I am sure of it."

Loras studied his brother closely, and frowned. Again, Garlan was trying to be reassuring, but Loras could see a flash of doubt in his brother's eyes, although Garlan hid it well. Loras sighed, beginning to pace again, and he looked down, trying to compose himself.

Before he could calm down even a little, a soldier pulled the tent flap aside, looking anxious as he bowed to them.

"My lords, I'm sorry to intrude, but there's something I think you should know."

Garlan sighed, but nodded, his eyes dull with exhaustion and frustration from the arguing he'd done with his brother. "Yes, all right, what is it?" He asked rather sharply.

"Well, my lord, it's the Oakheart men." The soldier explained, looking even more worried than before. "They're gone, my lord."

Loras frowned at this, and Garlan sighed in frustration. "Gone where?" He asked wearily.

"They were headed south, my lord," The man explained. "Ser Willam Oakheart was leading them. It seems they're going back to the capital, and they appeared to be moving with some haste. Shall I send someone to order them back, my lord?"

Garlan turned to Loras, meeting his gaze with a look that clearly said See? The situation is being dealt with. There's no reason for us to intervene. Loras only back glared at him, making it clear that he didn't appreciate his brother's look.

"No, let them go," Garlan said finally. "Ser Willam has some family business to take care of, this is no cause for concern."

"As you say, my lord." The soldier said, and with a low bow, he exited the tent, leaving the brothers alone once more.

"No cause for concern?" Loras asked, looking at his brother. "Is that how you see this situation, Garlan?"

"Brother, the hour grows late, and I grow weary," Garlan said, sounding exhausted. "You should go, and rest. We can discuss this further in the morning if we must, but both of us need sleep. Go now, and I will break fast with you at dawn tomorrow."

"Rest? Garlan, how am I to rest? My sister, and my''I mean Ser Olyvar are in danger, and it seems I can do nothing for either of them. How would you suggest I forget about that?"

"Ask the maester to give you something to help you sleep if you must, just please, go brother. This has been taxing for both of us, let us not argue further tonight, it does nobody any good. I do not wish to fight with you over this anymore, I dislike this as well, believe me, but we can do nothing for now."

Seeing that he'd get no further with his brother that night, Loras left the tent and returned to his own without another word. He readied for bed and lay down, but sleep would not find him. He simply had to do something, he thought to himself. He would be eaten alive by anxiety if he didn't, and so it was now or never.

Loras dressed again and collected his belongings, before leaving his tent and going to saddle his horse. He left alone, and rode out of the camp without being detected, heading south, and following the tracks left by Ser Willam and his men. He'd meet up with them, he decided, and despite his father's orders, he'd help Margaery and Olyvar, even if it was the last thing he did.


End file.
